After hearing Ms. Pierce on a podcast, I bought this book to give to a friend of mine, whose faith has also been inherited through generations of Black women. I thought I should at least skim the book before gifting it. But then I poured over every page. I wasn't prepared for just how good this book would be.
Over twelve chapters, Pierce writes of the faith she's inherited as well as the faith she seeks to live in today. She writes with a Black womanist's sensibility, honoring the traditions of the Black church in general and her grandmother's lived experience in particular, engaging that tradition and inheritance both critically and gratefully.
This is an inspiring memoir and set of essays about the legacy of Black grandmothers and the Black church brought into conversation with contemporary life. For me, as a post-evangelical white Christian and pastor, it is also a moving work of ongoing reconstruction. The word deconstruction has been in vogue among exvangelicals to describe dismantling and losing legacies of faith that are not loving or liberatory. Fair enough. But to live forward with faith, hope, and love, how much better to practice a reclamation artist's craft rather than merely wielding a wrecking ball. Pierce receives and includes the wisdom and faith and strength of her ancestors and then builds upon it, moving forward in new ways with the tradition she has received. It's a great example of what Ken Wilber and Richard Rohr and others talk about as including and transcending.
Lastly, Pierce's book is wonderful to read because it is not only a work of power but a work of art. The prose and storytelling are lean and beautiful. Even the arc of the essay's arrangement, building toward an integration of her grandmother's death with themes of the tragedy of America's history on race is moving. The chapters on silence and safety are, among, others just stunning in their impact. I'm grateful for this book.